Some Die Young
by The Eye Behind The Lens
Summary: Stiles is captured by the Alpha pack in order to lure Derek to them.


A/N Just a little drabble I put together for a request on tumblr that I got told I should wack on here. I originally posted it with an image that I made, as it really helps the story, so I'll try and put the image as the cover type thing, but it's probably easier if you just check it out here :) post/36521110908 Oh yeah, and listen to either Some Die Young by Gavin Mikhail or The Earth Prelude by Ludovico Einaudi. Both are bloody gorgeous songs and add to the mood :) Thanks guys and I hope you enjoy :)

Shit. Shit shit shit shit SHIT! That was literally all that was going through Stiles' head right now. Any plan they possibly had was crumbling to pieces in front of them as everything became utterly fucked.

"He won't come you know? He doesn't even know I'm here! I came totally alone. No help from anyone, nobody knows! So just put the gun down, there's no point!"

Stiles wasn't ashamed to sound as like he was begging. Hopefully the panic would cover up the lies in his words. Of course they knew where he was. And of course they would come. _He_ would come.

God, he wished more than anything that it wasn't the case. He would come and save him and he would die. And it would be all Stiles' fault. Another person he loves who dies because of him.

"Lets not kid ourselves here, we both know those are lies. We both knows Derek will come and save you," the Alpha smirked; a dirty, ugly thing that sent shivers down Stiles' spine.

"You are his mate after all"

Stiles stiffened where he stood, gun pressed to his head and the Alphas arm around his neck. It took a few seconds for the words to actually sink in. And he didn't actually know what to do with them when they did.

God, he always hoped he was important to him, but if what the Alpha was saying could be trusted, then he'd had no idea!

A sudden rush of emotion swept through Stiles like a tidal wave. If the stupid idiot holding him though that information would unsettle him, he was even stupider that he originally thought.

Because if anything was going to give him motivation to fight, it was that.

The Alpha must have sensed his rush of emotion, as his grip tightened considerably on his neck, making Stiles gasp for breath, and the gun was pressed harder into his temple.

"Don't even think of trying to run kid. And don't even pretend you can fight. You're going to stand here like the pathetic little human you are and wait for your disgrace of an Alpha. Then I'm going to shoot you in front of him."

Fear ran through him. But strangely, it wasn't all for himself. If he really was Derek's mate, he knew how his death would affect him. Stiles couldn't do that to him. He couldn't do that to his dad.

They stayed like that for another ten minuets, Stiles wishing and even praying the entire time that they wouldn't come, that he wouldn't get shot. That he wouldn't have to leave them.

But his life just wasn't that lucky.

The sound of snarling started far away, the noise of claws slashing into flesh and jaws snapping increasing every second.

Stiles listened to the fight raging in the first section of the huge abandoned warehouse, which by the way is so cliché it's untrue, and winced as the gun was pressed ever harder into his scull as the Alpha straightened, claws coming out as he prepared for the pack to break through.

And they did, in record time in fact. Stiles thought, with a small amount of happiness, that he was important after all. Though right now he wished he weren't, he'd happily be nothing if it meant they were safe.

The snarling and growling was just outside the huge metal door now, and in no time at all, it was thrown of its hinges, revealing a very, very pissed off Derek.

Stiles had never seen him look like that before. His eyes were blood red and full of the deep, burning rage. He was snarling with his teeth bared and his claws out, his stance battle ready.

"Let. Him. Go."

God, his voice! It was hard as ice whilst also being full of boiling anger!

The Alpha _was_ telling the truth then.

"Derek! Derek it's okay! I'm okay! Don't, don't listen to him! Don't do what he wants! Please! Aaah!"

"Shut your mouth!" the Alpha snarled, tightening the arm around his neck so tight he could barely suck in air and smacking the side of his head with the gun.

Derek lunged forward, face contorted in panic and anger.

"Ah ah ah, enough of that" the Alpha taunted, "wouldn't want dear Stiles here to get hurt now, would we?"

He watched Derek reluctantly step back as he stood trapped in the Alphas powerful arms, head reeling through lack of oxygen until finally, the pressure around his neck let up some, and he sucked in air greedily.

"What do you want Deucalion?" Derek spat out with a snarl.

Deucalion? Seriously? What the hell sort of name is that! Well, Stiles could hardly judge, his real name is shudder worthy.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said with a smile that was all teeth.

"I want you to suffer. I want to kill you and your pack and claim your territory. The Hale pack was once mighty and powerful. Now look at it. Nothing left but a pathetic, broken boy pretending to be Alpha when we all know it was never meant to be you."

Derek growled at the mockery being thrown his way. Stiles knew his family was a sore spot, he knew it all too well, so he knew how much the reminder would hurt.

At Derek's reaction, Deucalion tightened his grip on Stiles' neck once more, causing him to wheeze and choke.

"Okay okay! I'll do what you want! Just…let him go."

The smile that spreads across the Alphas face is nothing short of pure malice.

"Oh Derek. It seems we've found a weak spot! You should know better than to show that. It'll get you killed! Or, more specifically, it'll get him killed."

And with that, he let go of Stiles, spun him round and shot him in the stomach, pushing him towards Derek as he did.

"NO!"

Everything moved in slow motion for Stiles after that. The whole world feeling like it was under water.

He swayed where he stood, staring into the Alphas eyes; so full of vindictive pleasure, before his hands drifted up to the bloody wound in his abdomen. He swayed again, feeling the warm liquid pouring through his fingers before his legs finally gave out and he collapsed, only to be caught by his Alphas strong arms.

He looked up into Derek's face, watching the sheer panic spread across his features and his mouth move in slow motion, but no sound coming out.

He felt large hands press down on his stomach and the world rushed back into focus.

Pain. So much pain.

He groaned, a pathetic noise and tried to curl in on himself unsuccessfully, the pain raging through his body like wild fire.

"Stiles! STILES! Don't…don't move okay? Helps on the way! Scott! Leave them, I don't care! Just help me, we have to stop the bleeding!"

He heard what sounded like fighting in the distance, but what little attention wasn't focused on the mind numbing pain was focused on Derek. His Derek. God he hoped he didn't have to leave him. Just the look on his face now was breaking his heart.

More pressure was applied to his stomach, the pain surging once again as Scott's head swam into view.

"Stiles, buddy, don't worry okay? It's going to be fine. It'll all-shit Derek it's not slowing down! What do we do!?"

Stiles felt something in the back of his throat and he coughed, only realizing it was blood when the cloying, metallic taste hit his tongue.

The look on Derek's face when he saw the blood trickle slowly out of Stiles' mouth, staining the lips he so loves red, was painful.

Despite the pain, he slowly moves his hand up to try and touch Derek's face. It never makes it that far, all the energy seemed to be seeping out of his body along with his blood.

He didn't notice his eyes were beginning to close until he felt someone grab his hand and squeeze it tight.

"Oh no you don't. Stiles, come on, keep those eyes open for me okay? Stay with me Stiles! Please!"

Fighting the fog that was descending on him, numbing his body and mind, he opened his eyes and locked them onto Derek's. If he was going to die, he wanted him to be the last thing he sees.

"Derek…don't…blame…self. Okay?" he forced out, wincing at how difficult it was and the fading sound of his voice.

Squeezing his hand tighter, a pained whine left Derek's mouth. It hurt Stiles more than the bullet to do this to him.

"Sssh, don't walk okay. Just hang on; the ambulance will be here soon. It'll be fine, I, I promise."

Stiles pretended he didn't hear the little stutter for Derek's sake. He knew it was probably too late.

Stiles was sure that this was the point where he should be scared, or pleading or something. But the truth was, he was just glad it was him and not any of the pack.

And really, he never expected to live to a ripe old age. Not running with wolves like he did. So honestly, he could think of worst ways to die then cradled in the arms of the person he loves more than he ever thought it possible _too_ love. The person who loves him back just as much.

He felt the hand that had previously been pressing down on his stomach move up to his face, gently running a finger down his cheek in a soft caress, before moving to cup the back of his head and pull him into a loving embrace.

Stiles knew it was his time.

Derek's breath was warm on his pale skin as he pressed their foreheads together, dropping soft kisses on Stiles' lips, tiny wines escaping him as he held Stiles tight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the rest of the pack approach and crouch down at his side, pressing tight together in an attempt to find comfort.

Surrounded on all sides by the people he loved, Stiles felt nothing but warmth. The pain had faded now, as had everything else. His eyesight was blurring and he could hardly find the energy to keep hold of Derek's hand. But he would make himself. Right till the very end.

"Love…you…" he whispered, eyes fixed on Derek, voice barely audible even to werewolf ears.

A broken noise escaped him as he peppered kisses all over Stiles' face, repeating the same thing over and over like a mantra between each one.

This is okay, Stiles thought. This is okay. He's so tired now, more so than he'd ever been before and he knows it's time now. And that's okay. Because he is loved.

It surrounds him on all sides, it's whispered across his skin. He is warm and loved.

His last conscious thoughts are that of happiness. Memories of running through trees, sunlight streaming between the leaves and the smell of life all around. Memories of laughter and warmth and friendship. Memories of safety and love, of being held in strong arms.

Yes. He was loved.


End file.
